


Goldilocks

by pseudofaux



Category: Samurai Love Ballad: PARTY
Genre: Banter, F/M, Grinding, Modern AU, Shigezane's cock feels better than the best i do make the rules, Unprotected Sex, and so they do pretty much, beach wedding, so much dumb flirting, they are goofs, they wanna have SEX! on the BEACH!, though it be but horny/it is soft, wedding setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:07:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29552583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudofaux/pseuds/pseudofaux
Summary: “I’m game to do more than grind if you are.”“Fuck, Doll, anything you want, I meant it,” he says, weaving after her mouth as she playfully evades kisses. “But yes, hell yes. Very game. Atari. Dreamcast. Parcheesi.”“Shut up, Shigezane.” She keeps a light grip as she begins to jerk him.“I am never going to talk again,” he promises, and she laughs and kisses him and jerks him faster, and doesn’t call him on it when he starts chanting her name and curses and endearments. It’s better to let him, and focus on how damn good he feels in her hand. How good is he going to feel inside her? How would he feel in her mouth?
Relationships: Date Shigezane/Main Character (Sakura Amidst Chaos)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	Goldilocks

**Author's Note:**

> This was written to fulfill a request on tumblr for some Shigezane with spice.
> 
> ...Is sugar a spice?

His name is Shigezane and he tastes like a sugar rim, the flirtiest sweetness she’s ever known. He smells sweet, too-- she thinks it’s Armani but can’t tell which one. It might be the sugar-rimmed drinks talking (she has the best buzz going, fun and still in control), but from his jokes and his touching her as they dance, it feels like he’d be an enthusiastic, gentle, appreciative lover.

She feels like she wants to find out if that’s true. _Two more songs_ , she tells herself. _If I still like him after two more songs_ , _I’ll take him to my room_. And aside from the thrill of that prospect, she’s hoping she still likes him after two more songs, because she likes him a lot right now. He’s made her laugh so much and his touches have all been warm and good, but not too much.

Just right. He’s Goldilocks.

(Okay, that’s got to be the sugar-rimmed drinks talking-- his hair is actually a pretty, soft brown that’s more silver than gold somehow. But he’s still just right. She wants to get her fingers in that hair. If he kisses so well he can distract her from the sugar rim of their watermelon shots when they’re pretty much in public, she has high hopes for what else he can do with his mouth when they’re alone.)

This reception has been fun. Ridiculous but happy, the height of happy beach summer to match the afternoon’s wedding. Bright flowers everywhere, a little umbrella in every drink. She’s tasted pineapple, watermelon, and coconut. It’s long past sunset now, but the dancefloor on the restaurant’s deck is close enough that they can hear the night waves, even the ones they can’t see.

There are even torches on the beach, and dark wood chairs in the sand. The bride and groom took pictures cuddling on one earlier, and she’d looked on with the rest of the bridal party and beamed for them. Was there anything as nice as a _happy_ wedding? No demanding parents. Just happiness and love. 

Well. Maybe spending a happy wedding reception with a nice guy who was making those gray slacks work so well.

“You up for another dance?” he asks, and holds out his hand to her like something from a movie. She already knows how nice it feels to put her hand in his, and she needs to see what he does for the next two songs. So she puts her hand in his and says “Are you?” and totally smiles at him just because he smiles at her so big and bright.

He doesn’t do anything to put her off for _three_ songs. But before she can pull him aside to ask about going somewhere, he says “Hey-- you wanna walk on the beach?” and his glance is so sweet she’s not even mad at him for being smooth before she could. His look isn’t shy or cocky as he waits for her answer. She looks at him for a moment just to soak in how damn cute he is, that soft brown hair all wind-mussed. And then she takes his hand again. 

They walk beyond the light of the torches, far enough down the beach that they’re in front of another restaurant’s slice of sand. The buildings on the land side are closed and dark. It’s not pitch black, but it is nighttime, and breezy. She’s glad the air is still summer warm.

“Oh _no_ ,” Shigezane says suddenly. There’s so much dread in his voice she’s worried there’s something dangerous on the beach with them.

She stops walking. “Uh... What’s wrong?” 

“Babe,” he says, gently tugging her hand. “There’s not a single person in any of these seats. Theses chairs are _lonely_.”

A sound stalls in her throat as she decides how lame that was, but he’s laughing and pulling her with him onto one of the beach chairs, and she goes. These are painted white, and they look soft and blue in the dark. Their bodies sit not very far apart at all on the lounger.

“I came out onto a dark, secluded beach, on a summer night... with a dork,” she deadpans, just like he did. He clutches at his heart and makes a show of her words wounding him.

“But,” she says, leaning the small space it takes to nudge him with her shoulder, “He’s a decent kisser.”

“Oh,” Shigezane says, now making a show of thinking over how that must change things.

“And he has a big heart for lonely furniture,” she whispers as she turns her body.

“Gigantic,” he whispers back. “Monumental.”

“Anything else gigantic you wanna tell me about?” she asks his mouth.

His exhale is sudden and gratifying to her. “Maybe, you know. Something reasonable,” he stutters. “Something reasonably sized--”

She kisses him again.

It’s not long before she’s straddling his lap, flowy dress bunched in his hands at her hips. She can tell from the promising stiffness she’s been grinding against that he was being modest, and she likes that. She likes him.

“I like you,” he says, and his head is tossed back but she’s watching everything she can see of his face, so she catches it. She smiles and puts a little kiss on his chin, just because he’s so damn cute.

“I like you, too,” she tells him. “But if I am going to cling to your shoulders--”

“ _Please_ cling to my shoulders. Oh my god. That’s really hot.” 

“Mmhmm. And if I’m going to cling to your shoulders,” she repeats, curving her palms over the tops of his shoulders and loving the muscle she can feel leading toward his back, “You’ll have to undo your pants yourself.”

“Ohhhh my god, okay, yes, absolutely,” he agrees, pushing himself up by the thighs, her grip on his shoulders and his hands holding her hips keeping her from falling. “Cling, babe. Please. I’m steady.”

She lets her hands really grip him and anchors herself with his body. He keeps one hand tight on her hip while the other works at the fly of those damn slacks. “Your ass looks good in those,” she tells him. “When we were spinning each other, I noticed.”

“Don’t make me blush,” he says, but even in the dark she can tell he already is, and smiling, too. He does whatever pulling needs to be done and sighs when his length is free. She can feel the warmth of it, like the sun hid a part of itself away for her to find in the dark.

It’s hard to decide if she wants to keep clinging (it is pretty hot, and she’s enjoying how solidly he’s kept her up by the strength of his shoulders and thighs), or touch him.

“Can I?” she asks.

“Doll, you can do anything you want,” he moans, head going back again. “Keep grinding, don’t grind, please just stay with me.” His hand goes back to her hip and he settles back down, waist of his pants high on his thighs. One day soon she wants to put her hands on his ass when he’s fucking into her, but here on the beach chair it would probably hurt. So she settles for grinding and kissing his Armani-scented jawline, following the cologne to the collar of the linen shirt he’s wearing. One hand stays close to his chest as she slides it down. Down. And then he’s wrapped by her hand and she cannot believe how smooth and thick this man’s dick is. What the hell. 

“I’m game to do more than grind if you are.”

“ _Fuck_ , Doll, anything you want, I meant it,” he says, weaving after her mouth as she playfully evades kisses. “But yes, hell yes. Very game. Atari. Dreamcast. Parcheesi.”

“Shut up, Shigezane.” She keeps a light grip as she begins to jerk him.

“I am never going to talk again,” he promises, and she laughs and kisses him and jerks him faster, and doesn’t call him on it when he starts chanting her name and curses and endearments. It’s better to let him, and focus on how damn good he feels in her hand. How good is he going to feel inside her? How would he feel in her mouth?

She has a nice little fantasy of going down on him in the kitchen of her apartment. Just lean him against the fridge-- mind the ice button, Shigezane-- and go to her knees. She thinks she could mouth the head of his cock for days, the skin of the rest of him feels so good. “Gonna, soon,” he pants.

She leans forward and pulls in a deep breath of his cologne. She’s gotta find out what kind this is. “Well then you need to tell me,” she whispers, “where you want to be when you do.”

His answer is a series of swears but none of them are a location.

“How do you feel about cumming inside me?”

He looks at her like he cannot believe his luck. She likes that.

“Are you-- Yes, but... you’re okay...?”

“Are you clean?” she asks. “I do have a condom in one of my pockets.”

“Thought I could feel that,” he says, squeezing the dress fabric. “My god, you’re a dream.” He clears his throat. “I’m clean,” he says, more seriously. “But I’ll wear it.”

“Do you _want_ to,” she presses.

“Uh, I am-- more than willing,” he sputters. “I think that’s clear?”

She laughs for what feels like the hundredth time that night.

“Shigezane. How do you feel about cumming inside me?” she asks again. She presses him against the _very_ wet gusset of her panties and holds him there so she can make herself even wetter. He’s so hot, and so cute, and his dick feels so good.

Goldilocks.

“I want you to be comfortable,” he says carefully.

“Then I want you in me. I’m lonelier than these chairs,” she tells him.

“Can’t have that,” he says, grinning. She shakes her head and grins right back.

She stands in the sand and holds up the gauzy material of her skirt. “Take 'em off,” she says.

He says something dumb and cute about it being his pleasure but she can’t scold him for it because as soon as he slips her panties down he starts kissing her pussy and if she thinks about anything but staying upright she _will_ fall into the sand. He lets the stretchy lace fall and puts his hands around her hips, no fabric between them this time, and pushes his tongue into the seam of her body. He finds her clit without any prompting and yes, he’s a _good_ kisser.

“Later,” she gasps, desperate to put her hands in his hair but sure if she lets go of her dress he’ll try to hide in it and get her off. She’s going to get off anyway, she wants to do it with his dorky but perfect cock inside her. “Tomorrow. Tonight, fuck me.”

He groans and asks “How do you want it?” His hands trace up her sides as he stands up. She can feel him touching the fabric at her waist. She’s getting a little dumb and desperate at this point, the party and drinking and all their flirting and the smoothness of him in her hand swirling around in her bloodstream.

She looks around to make sure they’re really alone. Then she pulls her dress the rest of the way over her head and tosses it toward one of the other chairs. Her bra joins it. Shigezane is looking at her like he wants to worship her with his mouth and she knows it’s not a bad idea.

Thinking he’s probably come back from the precipice by then, she takes one of his hands and brings him with her as she stretches out on the only lounger with a cushion. It’s thin, but it’s better than nothing! She’s hoping he’s gonna knock her around a little.

She pulls him like he pulled her for a dance. When he gets on top of her he is careful with his limbs. He murmurs how gorgeous she is, how he cannot believe he got to even talk to her.

“You’re pretty gorgeous yourself,” she tells him, reaching for him again and rubbing him slowly against her clit. He glides from how wet she is. If he does not put his cock in her soon she’s going to run into the ocean. “Now do more than talk.”

From the first amazing press of his body to hers, he really is just right. And when his mouth finds hers, he shows her again that he’s a very good kisser. Sweet as a sugar rimmed drink.

**Author's Note:**

> YOUR HONOR/DADDY, I LOVE HIM 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I'm on tumblr as pseudofaux and twitter as pseudofauxtome if you'd like to say hi. I love squeal-appreciating Shige literally whenever a likeminded person is around (and sometimes on my lonesome).


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